


Sluts

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-12
Updated: 2006-01-12
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry + alcohol = slut.





	Sluts

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: : Another PWP for [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=smut_69)[**smut_69**](http://www.livejournal.com/community/smut_69/). The prompt - _sluts_.  
  
[My Big Damn Smutty Table](http://www.livejournal.com/users/kerryblaze/136583.html#cutid1)  


* * *

Ron takes the steps two at a time, anxious that he is late. He promised Harry he would be there by eight and it's now almost ten.  
  
Standing in the quiet hallway, Ron tucks in his shirt and fusses with his hair before opening the door.  
  
"Oi!" George yells. "Close the bloody door, Ron!"  
  
Ron makes a rude hand gesture towards his brother as he slams the door shut.  
  
The party is in full swing. The entire flat is filled with bodies of twenty-somethings simply celebrating the fact that they are alive and young and have nothing better to do on a Saturday night except get pissed, dance, and attempt to find a shagging partner or at the very least someone that won't mind a quick snog and some groping.  
  
Ron makes his way through the crowd, stopping to greet friends.  
  
Lee Jordan slaps him on the back. "Cannons look good this year!"  
  
"Here, mate." Dean hands him a bottle of ale. "Have to catch up with the rest of us!"  
  
Deeper into the mob, Ron spots Harry chatting with Hermione and Neville. Ron pauses for a moment and watches Harry's profile. Harry's in high spirits, his smile unusually wide, and the sight of it makes Ron's heart leap.  
  
Ron sneaks up behind him and curls an arm around his waist. "Sorry I'm late."  
  
Harry spins around so that their chests and other more interesting parts of their bodies are pressed against each other. Ron smells firewhiskey and ale on Harry's breath.  
  
Without a word of greeting, Harry kisses him, _deeply_. Kisses him as if they have been apart for ages. As if it wasn't just this morning that Ron sucked him off in the shower and then fucked him against the wall.  
  
"Hello to you, too," Ron quips when Harry releases him.  
  
"I missed you!" Harry says excitedly. _Too excited_. And Ron notices the silly grin on his face and the slight slur in his voice.  
  
Ron looks over Harry's shoulder and waves to Hermione and Neville who wave back before returning to their conversation.  
  
"Dance with me," Harry says, leaning towards Ron's body.  
  
"Dance? You must be pissed," Ron jokes.  
  
Ignoring Ron's accusation, Harry puts his arms around Ron's neck and begins to sway to the backbeat of the music.  
  
"How much did you have to drink?" Ron asks, laughing nervously.  
  
"I _know_ you know how to move your hips," Harry says in a throaty voice.  
  
"Harry…" Ron whines in protest. "You must be wankered! You know that I'm pants at dancing."  
  
"It's like sex," Harry begins, placing his hands lightly on Ron's hips. "Just start nice and slow -" Silently with his hands, he urges Ron to begin moving his hips. " - and follow me."  
  
Ron relents and relaxes and lets Harry guide his movements. Because it feels amazing to have Harry pressed up against him, swinging and rolling his hips to the same beat that is thumping the floor and vibrating up his legs landing quite pleasantly in his groin.  
  
Ron takes a hearty swig from the bottle in his hand, attempting to douse the lust that is bubbling up inside of him.  
  
"Mmmm…" Harry purrs, moving his hands up Ron's back.  
  
Ron continues to move on his own not really believing that this is dancing by any definition.  
  
The song ends and the song that immediately follows is faster. Harry smirks, turns around and begins to grind his arse against Ron to the upbeat tempo of the music, seemingly oblivious that they are in the middle of a crowd of their closest friends.  
  
"Fuck," Ron breathes, looking around to see if anyone is watching. No one is.  
  
Harry laughs.  
  
"It's not funny," Ron hisses in his ear. "I'm hard as a rock."  
  
"Do you want me to stop?" Harry asks, teasing Ron with a sultry sway of his hips.  
  
Ron grabs Harry's waist and pulls him close. "I _want_ to fuck you."  
  
"Right here?" asks Harry innocently.  
  
"No!" Ron snaps. At this point, he's not sure how far Harry will go. "Blimey, what _did_ you drink?"  
  
"I'm joking. Were you?"  
  
"Was I what?"  
  
"Joking. Because I want you to fuck me." Harry tips his head back to rest on Ron's shoulder and flashes him a devious smile. "I want you to fuck me like we're not in love. I want you to take me into the loo and fuck me – hard and fast - like we've just met and we're nothing more than a couple of sluts that don't care about anything other than getting off."  
  
Ron's brain turns to mush, but somehow he still manages to pull Harry through the mass of people.  
  
"Don't even think about it, Finnegan!" Ron bellows.  
  
Seamus freezes before stepping over the threshold. Ron brushes by his friend into the bathroom yanking Harry behind him.  
  
"Aw, what the fuck, mates? I have to go!"  
  
"Go in the kitchen sink!" retorts Ron, slamming and spelling the door locked.  
  
Harry tries to talk, but Ron slams him against the door and kisses him, and whatever it was that Harry wanted to say turns into a moan.  
  
They thrash around the room kissing and ripping each other's clothes off, knocking over various sundries.  
  
Ron's lust is at an all time high. It's coursing through him, scorching hot, and when he's finally naked the cool air gives him the shivers.  
  
Grabbing Harry's wrists, he bends him over the sink. Harry grips the edges, jutting his arse out towards Ron.  
  
"Fuck," Ron grumbles, searching the floor for his wand among the scattered clothes.  
  
He finds it and when he straightens out on his knees Harry's arse is right there in his face. His palms wander over the curves and his thumbs part the cheeks.  
  
"Fuck," Ron repeats, but this time it's a greedy, desperate sound.  
  
He sinks his teeth into the soft flesh and, after Harry lets out a sound that is half between a groan and a squeak, Ron works the tender spot with his tongue. His tongue doesn’t stop there; it marks Harry with a trail of saliva up his spine to the base of his neck.  
  
Harry takes the wand from Ron and wordlessly lubricates himself and, within seconds, Ron slides a finger into him.  
  
"Yeah, damn, yes," Harry pants, pushing back, driving Ron's fingers deeper inside.  
  
Taking the wand back, Ron lubricates himself, spreading it over his cock in the same rhythm he's fucking Harry with his fingers.  
  
Harry's moans are echoing in the room and are nothing short of pornographic. Ron's cock twitches with each one. He pulls his fingers out and holds his cock at the base, guiding it into Harry. When he's buried into Harry as far as he could be, Ron rests his forehead on the back of Harry's head, seizes Harry's hips and focuses on nothing else except pounding into Harry with long, deep, hard strokes.  
  
The music is still blaring outside the door, and Ron finds himself fucking Harry to the beat.  
  
"Fuck… Yes… Fuck… Yes…" Ron chants in time to his thrusts.  
  
Harry answers him without words, but with moans and grunts.  
  
It's intense and neither of them last long. Harry strokes himself to orgasm first and he comes, wordlessly, his eyes scrunched shut, biting his bottom lip. Ron follows close behind, body trembling, heart pounding in his ears, blinding white light exploding behind his eyes as his come surges out of him.  
  
Wheezing, Ron leans forward on top of Harry, spent, legs feeling like jelly.  
  
"Oi! Ron!" Fred yells, pounding on the door. "Stop shagging and get out of the loo!"  
  
"We have to get out of here," Harry whispers, standing up straight and facing Ron.  
  
Ron grins at him. "Hi."  
  
"Hi." Harry grins back.  
  
Ron extends his hand. "My name's Ron. Yours?"  
  
"Harry." Harry shakes his hand. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"I'm going to open this door, Ron!" George bellows. "I don't care if we see your hideous, pasty, freckled arse!"  
  
Stepping forward, his erection still half-hard, Harry reaches around and lightly runs his fingers tips over Ron's arse.  
  
"I think your pasty, freckled arse is beautiful," he croons seductively. "And I haven't had a go at it yet."  
  
"You are a _slut_ , Harry," Ron says, marveling in the gorgeous sight of Harry looking well shagged, his skin shiny with sweat, and his lips kiss bruised a bright blood red.  
  
"Your place or mine?" Harry winks.  
  
Ron holds Harry's forearm, and as the door bursts open he Apparates them into their own bedroom.  
  
"Ours," Ron whispers, pushing Harry down onto their bed.  
  
 **~Fin~**


End file.
